


At The Opera House

by holy_wow



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Post-Game(s), Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2021-02-13 18:15:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21498382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holy_wow/pseuds/holy_wow
Summary: Caspar has come back for one of his impromptu visits after traveling and adventuring every where else. He's come to see Dorothea, specifically, much to her surprise.(No beta, vague mentions on which route picked)
Relationships: Caspar von Bergliez/Dorothea Arnault
Comments: 6
Kudos: 29





	At The Opera House

**Author's Note:**

> In the Caspar discord server we had monthly themes. This one was quiet. I of course had to go off the wall and do Caspar/Dorothea because I'm a rebel. Also the "promise if we dont find anybody by X we'll just get hitched- oops Im actually falling for you!" actually entertains me. Especially with these two.

The beautiful opera house is, mostly, empty. Its never fully empty, always somebody cleaning or fixing something, at least. But the hurried bustle of singers, painters, stage hands, or audience members is notably absent. The company is currently between shows, leaving the members moments of peace before practice will start in full swing.

Dorothea looks over the house with pride. It had taken a lot of work to fix it up, to bring the people back. Now, though, among the reds, gold, and mahogany is a flash of bright blue. Striking, eye catching, everything Caspar usually is. He trots ahead of her, in clothes more comfortable than fashionable. She can even see the part of a sleeve stitched back together, competently at least but hardly befitting one if the greatest warriors and heroes of the war, Dorothea thinks.

He looks good, which is a relief. After the war he had stuck around a bit, checking on what was left of his family and friends. Then came back for when their professor married their lord. Then again for marriages or parties he was invited to. He'd helped, for a bit, with the reconstruction of the opera house. The heavy lifting, of course, he'd sighed before smiling, like it was a good inside joke and not that Dorothea had been manipulating him before realizing he was actually a good kid.

The last time she'd seen him, however, was at Lindhardt's wedding. Caspar, of course, had to be there. It had been a sweet affair, probably less of Lindhardt's doing. But Dorothea had seen Caspar, during the party and after the speeches and feast, when he could stand off alone finally, watching the entire affair with big, wet eyes.

It was an expression of heartbreak, of letting go. She knew it well. Acted it out hundreds of times by then and felt it once. Truly felt it, once. Caspar had gone off two days later, back to his travels and adventures. The most she'd heard about him the last few years had been others updating her on his impromptu visits and the very few letters he sent her way- she didn't take it personally as he was just bad at it. 

Oh- and the rumors and stories told of the blue haired warrior from merchants and travelers. They usually had something to say of him as well.

In the years he had new scars. One, the biggest she could see, along his jaw and into his hair line. That side, the left side, freshly buzzed down. A small nick on his chin as well. But he looked healthy, happy, as carefree as he ever was, and Dorothea was so glad for it. He walked along the stage, thumbs in his belt, staring out at the hundreds of seats. His steps echoed, carried in the silence of the building. Dorothea followed, her own heels clicking softly. 

"It's amazing," Caspar said when she finally reached him. His voice carried, naturally having one that could be heard for miles, and so it was easy to tell he was trying to be quieter. "Looks so good now. You did it Dorothea! Knew you would."

Dorothea laughed, shaking her head. "It was hardly just me. But thank you, Caspar."

He huffed. "No, this is you Dorothea. All you." and he looked back at the house, all the reds and golds and deep dark woods. And he looked at it with wonder and pride. Like it was worthy, and was somehow equating it to her.

"I didn't know you had an interest," she said, teasing.

"In opera? Or you?" Caspar asked, too blunt to play any word game. "I know how the war treated you Dorothea. It was real hard on you. But, look at this. Look at you! You're very strong and I'm proud to call you friend."

Dorothea blinked, more surprised than maybe she should be. "I believe it was Big Sis," she pretended to huff.

"Nope. Never again."

Dorothea laughed then, the gentle sound rolling through the opera house, covering her mouth with a fist and pushing back her hair. It was easy to notice how Caspar's grin grew, looking out at the seats where the sounds carried. Of course, a snide part of her thought, here she was the Opera's Rose and he was excited over echoes.

"Well, go on then," she sighed.

"What?"

"You've been very good and it is your one chance."

"To do what?" His face scrunched up, suspicious and cute looking. 

"Yell." She gestured to the edge of the stage.

His face instantly lit up. "I can?" He was already making his way towards the spot. She stepped back, bracing for the sound as Caspar glanced back one time for a nod and then shattered the quiet.

He took a deep breath, threw his head back, and released a mighty screaming roar. It was a noise that had carried in the halls at the academy, though often breaking and more wobbly as Caspar grew, and then strengthened on the battlefields. Dorothea knew it well and, for all it made her jerk or flinch, it was comforting too in a way. 

Caspar was still out there. A friend still lived, was still himself and strong. That had always been a comfort to the songtress, even if she couldn't understand how he did it. But here, resonating and echoing, it was absurd and she couldn't help but laugh as he trailed to an end, gasping for air and chest heaving.

Dorothea approached then, raising a brow. "You do have a set of pipes, Caspar. And lungs. Shame you never really took to training."

He snorted. "You say that like my mom didn't try." He pushed at his hair. 

Dorothea tried to imagine his mother and couldn't imagine the woman that raised Caspar. "Well, then, was this everything you thought it'd be? Screaming in an opera house?"

"It was great! Have you done it?"

"Of course," was her knee jerk reaction. But, no not really. An opera scream is very different from what he was talking about, what he did. And she knew some apprentices had done silly things in the houses, but not Dorothea. She had always been too scared of losing her place as an apprentice or somehow looking less to the others. Looking like the streetrat she was and losing what respect she was clawing from them and teachers.

She glanced at the seats, pushing at her hair more in a habit than need, before turning back to him. "No, I guess not," she relents under his bright gaze.

"Well then go on!" This time he steps back and gestures at the spot.

Dorothea blinks. It was something apprentices, new to the large stages and people like Caspar did. Impulsive people who had the luxury, or perhaps guts, to refuse to conform to the word 'proper'. Even still, standing there and knowing he was watching, she felt the need to not disappoint.

She took a deep breath, dropping her arms, and-Instinctively started singing. Or, perhaps, another kneejerk defense. She refused to analyze as she held and finished the loud note. Then turned to Caspar who whistled. "Pretty as always, Dorothea! But, not a scream. C'mon!" he urged, stepping up beside her with a big grin, not giving her time to be embarrassed.

"Together?"

"Yeah! You need to scream though!"

Dorothea laughed lightly. "Alright. One more try since you insist."

He puffed out his chest, still grinning and toothy, turning back to the seats. She followed his example, sucking in the air and started roaring! Maybe, an exaggeration on her part. She let it all out though, throwing her head back and letting her lungs strain to push the air and make as much noise as she could.

The door at the end of the hall swung open and an older man stepped in, eyes wide as they landed on Dorothea. She stilted to a stop, Caspar following as he glanced down at the man. "Lady Arnault?" the man started, "is everything alright?"

Dorothea, out of breath, nodded. "Of course, Mr. Shapu. I was just... showing my friend the opera house acoustics." Mr. Shapu glanced from her to Caspar, who waved and grinned. "I'm sorry for disturbing you while you're here!"

"That's no problem, Lady Arnault. Simply wanted to make sure you were alright, is all. I'll be in the Copper Wing if you should need me."

"Thank you! And please, don't stay too long. You do have a pretty new wife waiting for you!"

It was hard to see but she was pretty sure Mr. Shapu blushed. An older man, she'd hired him when he was down on his fortunes and shown up to ask for work in an old suit that didn't fit and gloves with holes in them. For a few years he stayed in the dorms, live in work. Dorothea had made sure they were nice and warm in the winter. But he had moved out to his own place and recently found a lovely wife with silver hair and lovely little wrinkles around her eyes that said she smiled a lot.

"Of course, Miss. Won't be long. Enjoy your company." He gave a slight bow and slipped out, with another glance at Caspar. Dorothea was sure he wasn't leaving until she was, or at least after Caspar and with some pushing on Dorothea's part. She was a magical power house and master of the sword, a war hero, and it was touching Mr. Shapu still was determined to watch out for her.

The songstress stepped back as the door closed and glanced at Caspar, who was looking back. It was a single moment before it was bursting and they both started laughing. It was like school, like being caught by a teacher, and somehow she couldn't stop the laughing. Caspar was no better, doubled over beside her. The sounds carried, beautiful in their ease. Beautiful that they could happen again.

"The look on your face at being caught Dorothea!" Caspar crowed.

"I can't believe you got Mr. Shapu in here!"

"It wasn't me Ms. Opera Singer!"

Dorothea swatted at him half heartedly. He danced away easily enough, grinning until her heels, of course took this moment to be a cliche. A slight wobble in her step and she went from swatting to reaching out to catch herself. Caspar pivoted easily into her space, shoes squeaking harshly as he backtracked around in a moments notice, and supporting her up with an arm at her waist. Her arm fell across his shoulder and they were closer than she could ever recall.

A terrible cliche, the cynical part of her scoffed. The others weren't sure if they should marvel at Caspar's eye color or be aghast -excited?- to realize she was only taller than Caspar because of her heels and the fact he was half carrying her in this pose. 

He stared up, big eyes even wider in surprise, both of them quietly gasping for air after screaming and laughing, but somehow it made this moment more intimate. She could feel him breath under her hands, chest rising and falling with his big breaths. She looks at him, stares really, and thinks maybe she's seeing him. It'd happened before, learning he was a good kid and not some rich eagle brat. But that had been cute. Not... This exactly.

He's very warm under her, and it spreads easily. His arms, strong at her waist and secure, like the heartbeat she feels under her palm. He never completely lost his baby face but its always been charming, now just with a stronger, slightly scarred jaw. Warmth and strength is what he radiates, and for her, safety. The opera house has fallen quiet besides their breaths, and Dorothea wonders why she can't look away- but no she shouldn't she is very genre savvy.

She curls her fingers into a fist over his heart and swallows. He blinks, head cocking to the side. "You okay?" he asks, natural as can be. Even knowing how oblivious he can be, Dorothea feels a bit like a fool.

"Of course," she answers quickly, pushing off of him. He lets her go, fingers trailing at her waist as she pulls away. "Sorry about that. I'm usually more graceful."

"I know. Its ok though." He grins at her. "Good thing I was here to catch you though!"

Dorothea huffs, rolling her eyes at him. "And why are you here, Caspar? Surely you didn't come back just to scream in my house?"

He straightens, as if remembering something. "Oh! No, I didn't. Great perk though. But, no, I came to ask you to dinner."

Dorothea felt like collapsing again. "What?"

Caspar laughed, even as he cheeks finally started to tint. "Remember? We said if we hadn't found anybody else, we'd get together? And I wasn't gonna break a promise. Especially not to you, Dorothea. So, here I am. Supposed to be asking you out to dinner." He threw his arms out, as if presenting himself. "I mean, unless you do already have somebody. I kinda was listening but you might be keeping it a secret huh?"

"No," she said, still in wonder. At how he made her feel and sound so important. Though, it was true she still had no shortage of people at her door, the type had subtly changed now that she was a business woman and hero. Still, very few people she could imagine stomaching for a meal, let alone actually letting them court her.

"Oh! So, then, do you want to go to dinner? Together?"

Dorothea blinked, her own cheeks turning just a tad warm at the official question stated finally. "Usually my suitors come with flowers," she teases, because coming to the conclusion that, no she wouldn't mind going on a date with Caspar, who somehow was significantly less little brother material now, left her a little dumbfounded.

Caspar let out a gasp. "Shit! Knew I forgot something! Sorry Dorothea! Do you think a flower shop is still open? What time is it?" He glanced at the dark ceiling of the opera house. "I saw some wild ones..." he had shifted, starting to plan on his own. Which was always dangerous.

Dorothea reached out, grabbing his shoulder. "Just, bring me a beautiful bouquet at dinner then. To make up for it, hm?"

He spun around, eyes wide. "Right! That could work- wait at dinner? So we're going?" 

Dorothea flipped her hair over her shoulder, making sure to play it cool as he blushed and smiled. "Sure, Caspar. I'd be happy to let you take me to dinner. Tomorrow?"

"Yeah? Yeah! Great! Awesome! I'll get you the biggest, best bouquet! And promise it'll be a real meal!" He laughed, and then in the kind of feat only Caspar would do, launched himself over the orchestra pit and into the seatings row. Dorothea laughed, waving back as he twisted to yell a goodbye. Always running, always eager.

She took the long way around, only noticing she was still smiling when she caught her reflection in the mirror. How silly, she thinks, even as she prepares herself for teasing from Mr. Shapu. He no doubt heard at least half that conversation.


End file.
